


Live Fantasies

by fuzipenguin



Series: Translating Dreams [3]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bukkake, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, Open Relationships, Other, Spanking, Sticky, Twincest, Voyeurism, role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:32:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prime calls the twins back to his office; what does he want now?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live Fantasies

     “Why is he calling us back?” Sideswipe complained, shuffling along behind Sunstreaker. “I mean, I confessed and everything! This sucks. It isn’t fair.”

     Sideswipe had been moping since they had left Prime’s office yesterday. Multiple times, Sunstreaker’d been tempted to beat the sulk out of his brother, but the thought of what was going to happen on this upcoming visit with Prime had stayed his hand.

     “Maybe it was such a novel thing that he wants to hear you do it again,” Sunstreaker threw over his shoulder, mirth coloring his tone.

     “Oh, frag you,” Sideswipe muttered. “You know what I don’t understand? Why are you so fragging eager to get over there? I can barely keep up with you.”

     Sunstreaker paused several feet into the hallway that Prime’s office resided in. He looked back to see Sideswipe standing in the middle of the intersection, arms defensively crossed over his chest. He was looking at Sunstreaker with the most miserable expression he had ever seen on his brother’s face. Sunstreaker knew that Sideswipe was pouting not only because of what _hadn’t_ happened yesterday, but also because he was mortified that he’d made a fool out of himself in front of one of the few mechs he truly respected. Facing Optimus again so soon would be a little like torture.

     Sunstreaker grinned wolfishly.

     “Because I like to see you squirm,” he replied, before whirling on his heel and continuing on down the hallway.

     A wordless blurt of static followed him. Then it resolved into words. “You slagging glitch. I fragging hate you. Right after this I’m going to Ratchet and telling him to find a way to stop us from being twins,” Sideswipe growled, stomping after him.

     “Uh huh,” Sunstreaker replied in amusement, stopping in front of the Prime’s door and knocking. Almost immediately, the Autobot leader’s voice called out an ‘enter’. Sunstreaker slid the door aside, and took a step forward. Then he paused and leaned back around the doorway, smirking at his brother who had stopped several feet before the door. Sideswipe’s righteous anger had faded away, replaced by a ‘woe is me’ expression.

     “Don’t keep him waiting; wouldn’t want to disappoint him.”

     With that final dig, Sunstreaker walked the rest of the way inside, leaving the office door open. He gave a brief nod to Optimus before lowering himself to the single chair facing the Prime’s desk. Optimus nodded back, optics questioningly flicking to the doorway. His energy field extended outward in welcome, a note of uncertainty coloring the edges.

     Sunstreaker shrugged nonchalantly and silently raised up a fist. Starting with his thumb, he started straightening his digits, one for each passing second. Just as his pinkie finger went up, they both heard Sideswipe grumble something to himself and then shuffle into the room. The door shut behind him at Prime’s remote command.

     Sunstreaker watched Optimus, the way the other mech’s optics crinkled in amusement at Sideswipe’s entrance. At the same time, Sunstreaker felt a flash of lust in the outer reaches of the Prime’s energy field before it was abruptly retracted. His expression also smoothed out, into one of vague displeasure.

     “What the…” Sideswipe’s startled voice made Sunstreaker turn slightly in his seat to glance at his brother. “Where’s the other chair?”

     Sideswipe gestured to the empty spot at Sunstreaker’s right where Sideswipe’s unofficial chair normally sat. He huffed irritably and rolled his optics when Sunstreaker patted his thigh and made a ‘come hither’ head motion.

     “Oh. I’m terribly sorry. Prowl asked to borrow a chair earlier and hasn’t returned it yet. You are fine to stand, aren’t you, Sideswipe?” Optimus asked innocently.

     Sideswipe’s shoulders slumped a little as he moved forward into his customary spot. His head dropped down, chin nearly touching his chest. “Yes, sir,” he said sullenly. No doubt he felt the Prime’s focus even more since he was now no longer on even ground with Sunstreaker.

     “Good. It won’t be for long. I wanted to follow up on our discussion yesterday. I must admit, Sideswipe, I’m a little disappointed in you.”

     Sideswipe’s head shot up, a stricken look on his face. “What?!”

     “I had several complaints over the evening about a glitch in the south washracks… something about pink glitter instead of hot water? I thought we had come to an understanding,” Optimus intoned sadly with a small shake of his head. Sunstreaker marveled at the other mech’s acting ability, as Sunstreaker himself wasn’t able to hide his grin as he looked back and forth between his brother and Prime.

     “I… that… no, that wasn’t me!” Sideswipe protested, taking a step forward and showing off his hands as if that would prove his innocence.

     “And now you’re lying to me. That hurts, Sideswipe,” Optimus replied, gaze dropping to the side in pretend sadness. “I thought I could trust you.”

     “NO!” Sideswipe exclaimed, sounding panicked. “You can trust me. I swear on Sunny’s spark – I didn’t mess with those washracks. Sunny, tell him!” Sideswipe begged, looking down at Sunstreaker and nudging his shoulder.

     Sunstreaker shrugged the touch off, thankfully having wiped the smile off his face moments before. “You think he’s gonna believe me?” he asked.

     His spark twisted a little; Sideswipe was flooding their link with panic and fear. In the past, when others had questioned their loyalties, Prime had always been there, his faith and trust in them unwavering.

     Despite their long years with the Autobots there was still a niggling doubt that one day they would screw up and get thrown out on their afts. And more importantly, that they would lose Prime’s respect and trust. This was one of Sideswipe’s worst nightmares coming to life. Sunstreaker pulsed reassurance along their link, silently urging Prime to move things along.

     “I don’t believe you,” Optimus announced, regaining Sideswipe’s attention. “And as a verbal warning wasn’t enough, I’ve decided on a punishment that is a little more… physical.”

     Vents hiccupping a little, Sideswipe practically sagged in place. “A… a punishment? So… so you won’t kick us out then, right?”

     Sunstreaker watched Optimus startle before his optics turned to stare questioningly at Sunstreaker. He raised an orbital ridge in challenge. Sideswipe wasn’t the only one with the fear of abandonment. Despite the appearance otherwise, Sunstreaker had reluctantly learned to like the mechs he fought alongside on a daily basis.

     “No. No, of course I wouldn’t kick you out. That’s ridiculous. This is your home,” Optimus said gently, earnestly looking back and forth between Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Sunstreaker relaxed back into his chair, allowing Sideswipe to use his shoulder for support as he swayed in relief. His fingers tightened, and Sunstreaker looked up to observe his brother’s expression. Sunstreaker couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh or pull his brother into his arms as he witnessed Sideswipe’s lower lip wibble.

     “Wha… what are you going to do then?”

     Optimus slowly shoved his chair back, the legs screeching across the floor and making Sideswipe flinch. “Come here,” Prime instructed, standing and pointing to the floor just to the side of his desk.

     Sideswipe looked down uncertainly at Sunstreaker. He shrugged back, gently nudging him along the bond.

 _It’s Optimus. How bad could it be?_ Sunstreaker said.

     Not reassured in the slightest, Sideswipe glacially moved forward, his plating clamped down tight. He came to a stop at the point where Optimus’s finger still indicated. When Prime took a step closer, Sideswipe startled, but stood his ground, optics locked with the other mech’s. Sunstreaker could tell that Sideswipe was floundering, his normal bravado completely gone. It had shaken him to the core to see Optimus truly displeased with him. Sideswipe would do whatever Prime asked, but he was obviously terrified of what that could be.

     “Put your hands flat on the desk,” Optimus commanded, standing tall and imposing by Sideswipe’s side.

     Still moving slowly in hesitation, Sideswipe leaned over and did as Optimus had instructed. It was only now that Sunstreaker realized Prime’s desk had been completely cleared of its normal clutter. Sunstreaker’s spark pulse quickened at the sight of his twin bent over the edge of that open expanse of table, his rear end exposed.

     “I don’t get it. Am I supposed to clean it?” Sideswipe asked in confusion as he stared down at the desktop.

     Optimus took a step closer, angling himself so that he and Sideswipe faced opposite directions. A large hand gently landed on Sideswipe’s far hip and he jerked upright, flinching away.

     “Shhh. Easy,” the Prime said soothingly, firmly propelling Sideswipe back down. “I will not hurt you.”

     Despite the reassurance, Sideswipe shivered in fearful anticipation, looking first at Optimus and then down at the desk again. Sunstreaker watched his brother’s throat tighten as he swallowed nervously.

     Optimus’ other hand rose and hovered in the air, unseen by Sideswipe. So when it impacted squarely against his aft in a light slap, he was caught completely unawares. The resulting squeak made Sunstreaker grin.

     “Well. Only as much as your crime deserves,” Prime rumbled, letting his hand rest against Sideswipe’s aft. “You’ve been a pain in my rear since the day I met you. It’s only fair that you know what it feels like.”

     He smacked Sideswipe again, harder, and he fell forward to catch himself with his forearms. Sideswipe turned his head and stared at Sunstreaker, optics comically wide. The expression of shock and bewilderment on his normally unflappable brother’s face was priceless, and Sunstreaker took multiple image captures to chortle over later.

     “Sssir?”

     “Sparkplug told me about this… that he would ‘tan the hide’ of Spike when he was young as a form of punishment. Prowl and I have tried everything else to correct your behavior. Maybe this will work. Do you think spanking will cure you of being bad, Sideswipe?” Optimus asked innocently, following the question up with another heavy blow.

     Sideswipe make a choked sound, hips swaying away from the stinging sensations in his aft. He continued to stare at Sunstreaker, desperately searching his face for an answer.

_What. Is. Happening?!_

     Sunstreaker merely slouched down in his seat, placing his elbow on the armrest and propping his chin on his upturned palm. He crossed one leg over the other and offlined then onlined one optic in a slow wink.

     “I think Prime’s waiting for an answer,” Sunstreaker replied with a smirk, letting his amusement color their bond.

     “Yes, I am.” Optimus lifted his hand again, shifting it over slightly, to smack previously untouched plating. He then caressed Sideswipe’s upper thigh, thumb flirting between them.  “Will this cure you of being bad?”

     Sideswipe’s optic shutters fluttered and he moaned softly at the touch. The bond between Sunstreaker and his twin swelled, anxiety fading away into an awed gratitude as Sideswipe began to realize what was going on.

 _You are the best brother_ ever, Sideswipe gushed. _This is real? This isn’t a dream? He’s fully on board?_

 _100%,_ Sunstreaker replied smugly. _You owe me._

 _Anything_ , Sideswipe promised. Then he twisted in place, looking up at Optimus.

     “I don’t know if it will cure me. But I want to be good. I guess you’ll have to keep going and see?” Sideswipe suggested with an inviting little shimmy of his hips.

     Optimus immediately hit him again, harder this time. “You have great potential, Sideswipe. I’m willing to put in the effort.”

     Prime then proceeded to spank Sideswipe in earnest, raining blows of alternating intensity across Sideswipe’s aft and upper thighs. Sunstreaker watched avidly, loving the way Optimus’ large palm practically covered the entirety of Sideswipe’s rear end, the contrast of blue against black pelvic armor. It didn’t take long before Sunstreaker uncrossed his legs, his hand dropping to cup his heated panel.

     Sideswipe was putting on quite a show, his hips twisting and dancing this way and that after each hit. His forehelm now rested obliquely across the desktop, face turned slightly towards Sunstreaker. His brother knew how much Sunstreaker enjoyed the play of pleasure across Sideswipe’s face; the way his mouth worked around each moan, the clench and spasm of his optic shutters.

     Fragging his twin was mind-blowing, of course, but for Sunstreaker, watching him with other mecha was the next best thing. Especially when Sideswipe kept his optics locked on Sunstreaker in sort of a reverent haze the entire time.

     After two or three minutes, Optimus paused, huffing a little. He slid a hand between Sideswipe’s legs, the thighs automatically parting for the touch. “You’re leaking!” Optimus accused, staring down at his hand and the smears of lubricant that decorated his fingers

     Sideswipe’s helm rose, his gaze staring off into the distance, foggy with lust. “Am I? My bad.”

     A light smack to Sideswipe’s panel had him crying out, Optimus retracting his mask to smirk down at Sideswipe’s back. “Yes. You are. I see I’m going to have to step this up a notch as spanking alone is obviously not working.”

     Sunstreaker’s panel slid aside with a quiet ‘snick’, lost in the sound of Sideswipe’s answering moan. He hadn’t meant to bare his equipment so soon, but he had never seen Optimus without his blast mask before. Dear Primus… those _lips_ …

     “It’s working, it’s working! I feel good, I do!” Sideswipe exclaimed, spreading his legs even further in invitation. As Sunstreaker watched, several drops of purple liquid fell from between Sideswipe’s thighs to splat on the floor. A twist of his hips allowed Sunstreaker to spy Sideswipe’s rigid spike, nudging up against his lower belly in angry demand. Sunstreaker sympathized. This whole scenario was beyond hot. Here they were, Sideswipe about to be fragged by the leader of their race while Sunstreaker got to watch.

     Speaking of… Sunstreaker stood up and dragged his chair closer, optics fixated on the large hand now disappearing between Sideswipe’s thighs.

     Sideswipe jerked, throwing his head back and his jaw working soundlessly. His optics flashed and then he shuddered through an overload, sagging forward until the edge of the table met his upper thighs.

     “Oh, sweet Primus,” he whispered, cooling fans clicking on with a vengeance. Sunstreaker wasn’t surprised Sideswipe had tipped over the edge at just the touch of Optimus’ fingers; this little fantasy of Sideswipe’s had rooted itself deep in his processor for days now.

     “Blasphemy,” Optimus announced. “Yet another crime. Whatever shall I do with you?”

     He withdrew his hand, his first two digits shining with a purple hue. Sunstreaker licked his lips at the sight, letting his hand drop to ghost over his own leaking valve. Those fingers looked so nice and thick… would the Prime’s spike be proportional as well?

     As if hearing Sunstreaker’s thoughts, Optimus stepped around Sideswipe’s swaying rear end, his own equipment finally revealing itself. And hot damn. Sunstreaker felt a surge of jealousy, wishing he were in his brother’s place right now.

     The Prime wiped Sideswipe’s lubricant off onto his fully pressurized spike, coating the thick length until it gleamed under the overhead lights. The spike’s base color was a soft gray, lines of red and blue spiraling up the length and culminating in a starburst tip. A little more decorative than Sunstreaker had imagined, but maybe the design had been chosen for Optimus when he became Prime. Nevertheless, it was mouthwatering, and Sunstreaker scooted even closer.

     “Oh, you’re really gonna have to give it to me now, Prime,” Sideswipe slurred, locking down his shaking knees. “I’m so bad. I thought I was getting better, but I’m… I’m just not.”

     Lightning fast, Optimus’ hand flew forward and hit Sideswipe’s aft with a metallic screech. As Sideswipe cried out, Optimus nodded sagely. “I’m seeing that now. Do not worry, Sideswipe. I have a backup plan. But I need you to help me.”

     “Anything, sir. Please make me be good,” Sideswipe begged. His engine gave a pleased rumble when Optimus reached out and gripped Sideswipe’s waist, thumbs meeting at his lower back.

     “Spread your legs more,” Optimus suggested. “Lay all the way down on top of the desk and grip the edges.”

     Sideswipe immediately complied, turning his face towards Sunstreaker and giving him a bleary smile. Sunstreaker raised an orbital ridge in reply, holding his hand up briefly before sliding three fingers into his own valve. Sideswipe’s optics brightened with interest.

 _You’re gonna love this,_ Sunstreaker informed him.

_Love what?_

     Seconds later, Optimus stepped forward and lined his spike up with Sideswipe’s valve. One firm push and he hilted completely, twin looks of bliss crossing over both the Prime’s and Sideswipe’s faces.

     Sideswipe shuttered his optics, moaning. “Oh, frag, _yes,_ ” he hissed. He gripped the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles creaked a protest.

_That._

     “By the time I’m through with you…” Optimus said, static edging each word, “… you won’t remember how to be bad.”

     He withdrew partway and then thrust back in, Sideswipe arching upwards with a gasp, his optics unshuttering with a snap. “Please! Please punish me! I’m so bad!”

      Optimus started out slow, giving Sideswipe time to adjust to the larger mech’s girth. But when Sideswipe finally relaxed and began tilting his pelvis back to better receive Optimus’ spike, he began gradually speeding up. Sunstreaker matched the Prime’s rhythm, plunging three fingers deep inside himself over and over. One knee was hooked over an armrest, his aft balancing preciously on the edge of the seat as he spread himself open as wide as possible.

     “And your brother,” Optimus announced, raking Sunstreaker with a burning gaze. “He’s no better. He’ll be next. If you learn your lesson, Sideswipe,” Optimus purred, leaning over to speak directly into Sideswipe’s audial, “I’ll let you help me teach him his.”

     Sideswipe shuddered, optics dimming as he licked his lips. Sunstreaker held his brother’s gaze and blew him a kiss, more than a little excited by the idea.

 _Primus, this is amazing_ , Sideswipe whispered over their bond as Optimus straightened, landing another heavy blow against Sideswipe’s sure to be sore aft. _Are you sure this isn’t a dream?_

 _Not a dream,_ Sunstreaker promised, his other hand sneaking down to wrap around his aching spike with a relieved sigh. His lower belly was tightening in preparation of a processor-blowing overload, and judging by the amount of writhing his brother was doing, Sideswipe was no better.

     “What do you think, Sideswipe? Are you learning your lesson?” Optimus questioned, his engine rumbling powerfully. Sunstreaker barely knew where to look. Sideswipe was always a sight, but Optimus’ pistoning hips and smugly curved lips were driving Sunstreaker to distraction.

     Sideswipe pressed the side of his face into the desk and panted. “I’m… I’m getting there. Oh, please. Don’t stop. Teach me, Prime. Oh, frag. Frag… _yes,_ I’m learning so much! Teach me more!”

     Optimus took ahold of Sideswipe’s hips and really began laying into him, the desk making little scraping sounds as it was shoved, inch by inch, across the floor with each thrust. Sideswipe scrambled at the desk surface, wailing as their bodies clanged together. Sunstreaker hoped to Primus that the rumors of the Prime’s office being soundproof were true.

     “I’ll teach you… I’ll show you what… what it means… to be a good… Autobot,” Optimus growled, thrusts turning almost brutal in their intensity. Sideswipe was on the tips of his pedes now, his death grip on the table the only thing keeping him from sliding across the surface of it. If Sunstreaker hadn’t known his twin so well, he would have intervened at the rough treatment. As it was, Sideswipe was practically delirious, begging and pleading, and spewing words that probably should never be spoken in a Prime’s presence much less directed at him.

     “Shove that fat spike in me, yes, Prime, hard! Beat it out of me, you Pitspawned fragger. More, hit me, teach me!” Sideswipe spat in a hoarse shout. “Frag me like I’m Megatron!”

     Optimus _roared_ at that, his optics lighting up with an eerie shine. The table creaked under Optimus’ onslaught, the plating over Sideswipe’s hips denting as Prime gripped him harder and began yanking him into every punishing thrust. Sideswipe keened out his pleasure, losing the capacity for words as he let himself be used.

     Feeling overload hovering, Sunstreaker pushed himself to his feet and wobbled over to stand at the edge of the desk. He began furiously stroking his spike, staring down the length of Sideswipe’s back. Sunstreaker had thought the view was good from the side; this was even better, seeing the plane of Optimus’ pelvis clang against the pert upturn of his brother’s aft. Sunstreaker wasn’t going to last more than a minute at this rate.

     “Ohhh… Sunny,” Sideswipe gasped, looking up at him with an adoring, bright gaze. “Love… you…” he managed, each word practically punched out of him with every motion of Optimus’ hips. “Give…”

     Sunstreaker reached down and slid one hand under Sideswipe’s throat, lifting his helm up until his mouth was lined up with Sunstreaker’s pelvis. His other hand continued to stroke his spike, the hot length throbbing with lust. He looked up, meeting Optimus’ optics.

     “Frag him, Prime,” Sunstreaker hissed. “He’s bad down to the last strut, so you gotta drive the point home. Save his evil spark.”

     Optimus’ engine revved in a swell of sound. Practically snarling, he reached down and bodily lifted Sideswipe by an arm under his waist. Sideswipe’s lower half dangled in his grip, pedes completely off the ground.

     “Do you hear… Sideswipe? Your brother… your _twin_ … is worried for your very… essence,” Optimus grunted, thrusting deep and then grinding against Sideswipe’s rear. Optimus’ other hand disappeared beneath Sideswipe’s belly and Sunstreaker watched Optimus’ arm flex and then begin moving rhythmically.

     Sideswipe thrashed within Prime’s grasp, optics flaring white. His gaze losing focus, a strangled sound emerged from the back of Sideswipe’s throat. A thin trail of oral lubricant welled up at the corner of his mouth and trailed down his chin, unnoticed as Sideswipe’s attention turned inward.

     Sunstreaker watched a shudder start in his brother’s legs and work itself upwards, resulting in a thin, spiraling cry as Sideswipe finally reached his climax. His entire frame spasmed, and Optimus choked out an oath, throwing his head back with a grunt as his hips slammed against Sideswipe’s aft, shooting his load deep inside him.

     And watching his leader’s face contort in pleasure and those intense blue optics shutter in bliss, Sunstreaker fell headlong over the edge too. Transfluid erupted from his spike, splashes of it landing on Sideswipe’s forehelm and cheeks. He stroked himself until nothing was left and he was verging on oversensitivity, and then collapsed forward next to his brother.

     The desk shuddered, and Sunstreaker looked up to see that Optimus had lowered Sideswipe back onto his feet. The Prime was stretched out across Sideswipe’s back, the fingers of one hand nearly touching Sunstreaker’s helm. Optimus shivered and then moved his head, his optics meeting Sunstreaker’s.

     They exchanged shaky grins, and Optimus opened his mouth to speak.

     Then the desk collapsed.

     “Ow,” Sideswipe groaned several moments later. “What the frag? Did that just happen?”

     Optimus pushed himself to his knees, gently disengaging from Sideswipe’s valve. “I believe that it did. Apparently my desk was not built for… activities of this manner.”

     “What, you mean hardcore fragging?” Sideswipe quipped, rolling to his side in the rubble. “Guess you should lodge a complaint with the manufacturer.”

     Sunstreaker sat back on his heels, surveying his twin. Sideswipe was completely limp, chest heaving as he ventilated rapidly. Small bits of dust and a liberal amount of dents decorated his frame, but his energy field was full of satiation.

     “I shall set a reminder to do that,” Optimus replied absently. “However will I explain this?” he asked, holding up a table leg.

     “Tell Prowl to stop giving you so much paperwork – it broke the desk,” Sideswipe suggested, stretching with a groan. “Damn. Kinda like you broke me.”

     Optimus’ shoulders tensed, and he stared down at Sideswipe in concern, hands hovering. “Are you all right? I might have… I might have gotten a little carried away. Sometimes I forget my own strength.”

     Sideswipe waved a nonchalant hand through the air, nimbly rolling to his knees and then getting to his feet with a small hop. He spread his arms out to the side, making quite the picture; lubricant dripped freely down the inside of his thighs, transfluid down his cheeks. Thank Primus Sunstreaker had thought ahead and stowed cleaning supplies in his subspace. “Naw. I’m fine, see? We’re tough,” Sideswipe explained, taking a step forward and bringing himself squarely in front of the Prime.

     “My back’s dented the walls of this place in more places than you can count, Prime,” Sideswipe continued, laying his hands on Optimus’ shoulders. Even with Sideswipe standing, the Prime’s head reached Sideswipe’s lower chest. “I like it rough.”

     “Then you are not injured?” Optimus inquired, fingers ghosting over a deep dimple on Sideswipe’s right hip. It perfectly matched Optimus’ thumb.

     “Surface wounds, nothing big. Hey… Anyone ever tell you that you got the most amazing lips?” Sideswipe asked, bending over and staring in fascination at Optimus’ face. “I’m just gonna…”

     Sideswipe leaned down and pressed his mouth against Optimus’, a throaty murmur emerging from the Prime’s throat. Sunstreaker looked on, feeling his interface equipment stir tiredly at the sight.

     He idly wondered what Sideswipe was going to dream about tonight.

 

~ End


End file.
